I
am on the last leg of my stay in India for now. In the last one year I have
realized that my intimacy with India is deeply spiritual, rooted in
consciousness and the burning quest to shed off the chains of existence. This
place will offer me a mother’s lap where I will pass off into an eternal and
soothing slumber, when I will come back after the full circle of my destiny’s
wheel. However, the underlying cosmic undercurrents of my destiny will take me
places, discover, explore and alter the lands, jungles and seas of human mind
and when all that will be done, the dusk, the setting sun and the evenings of
India soaked in the fumes of cow-dung, and temple incenses will wait for me
along with the eerie silence and the haunted tales of mystic nights which will
merge into hustle and bustle of the day.
Superficially,
the phenomenon known as India seems like a medieval zoo and a land of
ridiculous ironies with its middle-aged practices like caste system, child
marriage, worship of monkeys and elephants – which all makes a perfect masala
for a derogatory article for NYT by the likes of Arundhati Roy and Pankaj
Mishra. In a myopic perspective i.e. a perspective of the millions of
file-pushing Sharma jees and Varma Jees spread across the length and breadth of
this country, India presents a picture of highly rigid, monotonous and
extremely boring society of rigid death rites, birth rites, same caste marriage
rules and orthodox religious doctrines. However, there is a third way to look
at India which is above the previous two, and in a way which transcends the
plurality of perspectives. This is a perspective of a detached witness, an
observer, most appropriately referred to as Drishta in Indian cosmology. This
view is a view of a spiritually consciousness being where one is just a
chronicler, a note-taker of his senses. Unfortunately, we Indians seem to have
stuck in the previous two ways. And, surprisingly a large number of foreign
scholars ranging from Magesthenes to Bernier have seen India with this third
perspective.
In
the last few weeks I have heard rantings of semi-literate reporters with
dubious credentials on TRP hungry channels about the increasing communal
violence or rather communal rhetoric in India. The killing of a poor old Akhlaq
Muhammad in Dadri and the tweeting -Modi’s studied silence on the whole issue
has raised several questions. My friends from other nations have asked me questions
like –“Is India headed for a civil war between Hindus and Muslims?”, “Is
India’s rendezvous with secularism over and are we becoming a Hindu version of
Pakistan or Taliban?” or “Is it the time for minorities to flee India?” and “Is
RSS a de facto power wielder in India and Muslim hatred the dominant
narrative?”. Before I begin to answer
these questions in an academic manner, I feel restrained and a little hemmed in
because of the grand red-revolution staged by our secular and leftist liberals
in the brothels of dialectical materialism. It becomes a little difficult to
deconstruct and analyse this complicated and shaded relationship with
structures and theories, that at the best fail to comprehend the real picture
or even if they do, we are left with a highly distorted and moth-eaten truth.
(Our liberal intelligentsia and media bigwigs are well-trained moths; though
they all learned to wear a tie and some of them speak great English on NDTV).
Therefore,
I decided to follow a different approach. Lately, I got a chance to visit my
maternal uncle’s village. It’s a typical village in the remote and backward hinterlands,
located on Gujarat borders, with a sizable Muslim population. In the rest of
the post, I have written what I saw with my bare eyes and heard with highly
inquisitive ears. This village can be a highly representative village for the
whole of India with some minor deviations. However, temporarily my observations
will throw some light on the real situation between Hindus and Muslims.
The
total journey of 100 kms included a rough patch of about 40 kms from the
nearest town of Dungarpur. While I was driving through the narrow and shoddy
roads flooded with potholes, I felt my car scratching a couple of times against
Thoor[1]
. In the night which was fading into darkness and haunting silence, I could
hear some religious chanting and songs by the Bhil tribals on the way. I had
been strictly advised not to stop my car on the way as in the night the tribal
youngsters get drunk and rob the travelers for petty drinking bouts. The
encroachment of modern development initiatives had taken away their
forest-based livelihood and made them a little restive.
My
maternal grand uncle Mr. Babulal was ready to receive us. He is a man of 40 kgs
but exudes an aura of authority, arrogance and dominance. He had come with his
man Friday Akbar bhai Pathan to receive us. I found the duo a little strange in
their interactions, body language and demeanors. I guess with all the
intellectual baggage that I had I was trying to find out the ‘identity
consciousness’ or to put it bluntly –a hindu and a muslim. I would not say that
I could not find it out at that moment but it definitely raised my inquisitiveness
to know a little more about the village.
 |
Geenth Rawla i.e. the house of Thakur,
which is now kept on mortgage with Babulal ji,
as the royal family squandered
its wealth on wine,
women and donations
|
Akbar
bhaijaan told me that there were about 4500 Muslims in the village. Akbar bhai
was a tailor and a shopkeeper by profession. But, immediately he said with a
tinge of pride and glory,” bapu hukum, we are originally pathans. We are from
the lineage of Mughal pathans.” I said, “wow, that’s impressive.” And,
immediately he was joined by Babulal ji, saying that pathans are sahukari and
good Muslims. “What do you think of me? I do not hang out with Ganchis (local
Muslim converts from low caste Hindus)”.
“Akbar
bhaijan is a high-caste and noble-blooded Pathan”, said Babulal Ji with a grin
of pride and social status”. “Bhaijaan, Moo tamane kau kea me pathan ghanchi
thaki vivaah nee karaa ne hathe bai na khaa bhi nee. Ame pandit, Thakur, sayyid
and sahukara hathese meljol rakhaa” (brother, I tell that we, proud pathan
Muslims never marry or eat with Ghanchi muslims because they are of lower
caste. We interact with sayyid muslims, Hindu pandits, Thakurs and other
sahukari i.e. noble and high caste people.)
Akbar
Khan was a Mughal pathan by origin and tailor by profession. When he uttered
Mughal Pathan, faces of my Pashtun friends like Rafi, Shabbir and central Asian
friends like Romanbek started flashing across my mind. I was expecting the huge
built, fair complexion, thick whiskers, big faces, and the thick pathan accent.
But Akbar Khan was dark-skinned man with an average built who spoke Vagri-Gujarati
in highly local accent and in no way exuded his pathan ancestry. But, there was still something unique in his
persona. When I looked at him for a moment, I could locate brownish almond eyes
and an aquiline Pathan nose. His ancestors had been brought by the Rajput
zamindars of Geenth village, which was a big and rich thikana of Dungarpur riyasat, as archers, police and palace
guards. Even now the pathans in the village and neighboring areas were known as
sipahiyaas (Sepoys or armymen). In Rajasthan, almost all the Rajput
principalities brought Pathan mercenaries as gunners or archers for the
superior marshal abilities. Vijaynagara kingdom in southern India was the first
major Hindu kingdom to induct Turkish archers in its armies, to fight its wars
against the Bahmani rulers of Ahmadnagar.
These pathans who were brought as warriors enjoyed great prestige,
social status and power in the court and society. In Maharana Pratap’s army
Hakim Khan Sur was holding a major command against Mughal armies led by Maan
Singh of Jaipur. In the history of Mewar Hakim khan is revered as a great
martyr who died fighting for his master. Later, these pathans were also given
administrative posts of Dewaan and malgujars. They settled in the remote lands
of Rajasthan, flourished and prospered there and became an indistinct part of
the local religion, culture and folklores. There were many Hindu religious
festivals and local gods whose worship was initiated by the pathan landlords.
With their noble manners, military prowess and hard-working nature they won
people’s heart and were assimilated into the society in a very smooth manner.
In this process, they lost ties with their ancestors in Afghanistan, their
tribal origins, culture and language. When I asked Akbar khan about his
ancestors’ tribal origins in Afghanistan, he had no clue of the names like Yusufzhai,
Sherzhai, Durranis and Sur etc.
“Saheb,
Babulaal ji has been a great support to me in the times of distress. My father
Haji khan ji had married twice. Choti Ammi was a very clever woman who used to
add little amounts of opium in my abbu’s tea. Gradually, he kind of lost his
neural strength and in his last days was strictly controlled by choti ammi. She
controlled everything i.e. access to him, his food, his movements and the
visitors. In his last days his will was changed and we lost our jagirs to my
step-brothers, who are now big merchants in the near-by town of Bhaiswara.
Aslam is dealing in imported electronics and Salim is selling oil. Though they
took away our hordes of wealth but they lost the social prestige. You know,
sahib, Salim married a weaver Muslim girl from Badhoi (UP). In our Pathan
panchayat, they hardly visit and even if they do, our elders hardly respect
them. They are not allowed to sit on the samaj jhajham[2] . But I still command the respect which my
dadajani(grandfather) and abbu (father) commanded. I married a pathan girl Rubina
Khan from the near-by town Kheemalwara. From my mother, we are four- two
brothers and two sisters sahib. I am the eldest. In spite of bad finances, I
married my sisters in pathan families.
Bauji, our family always enjoyed high caste status. Saheb, you can ask
anyone here, when dadajani was dewan bahadur, our buajani was married to Thakur
Banka Singh of Rantagarh state in MP.”
“Did
you just say Thakur Banka singh, a Rajput Hindu married to your bua jani (Grandfather’s
sister)? How is that possible?”, asked I. I was quite amazed to know of this
strange union. Although I had heard of Kings like Man Singh marrying off their
daughters to Mughal King Akbar, but never heard of this practice among the
common folks of India. But, it was rather strange, a bit funny and interesting
phenomenon. For a time, it felt like music to my ears in the times of
love-jihad and beef riots in India.
“Saheb,
you look a bit surprised. I should have told you before. In old times influential
Pathan families had roti-beti (dining and marrying) relations with the Hindu
Rajputs, because both served the royalty and both were warrior communities. In
those times religious identities were not very important. They were old days,
loyalty towards your master mattered a lot. Kings and landlords were regarded
as divine agents and we always followed their social, cultural and religious
behavior. These days, it sounds strange because the politicians have spread a
lot of communal poison. Things have changed a lot. Hindus have changed, Muslims
have changed. Kings are gone, landlords have become beggars and we have lost
our wealth and clout.”
I
was quite impressed with Akbar khan’s knowledge of the social customs of his
ancestors. He often used to sit with his grandfather and Thakur Banka Singh ji
for hours and talk about society, politics, culture and their times. With his
stories, I was reminded of the incident in Ain-E-Akbari, where Raja Maan Singh
offered his gratitude to his master Akbar, while having a discussion on
Di-e-Ilahi, to the extent of becoming a Muslim if he ordered. I guess, in those
feudal days loyalty towards one’s master brought prestige and authority in
society. The feudal ethos venerated the master as gods, be they Hindus or Muslims.
Akbar
bhaijaan’s stories were accompanied with piping-hot cup of ginger-tea in the
rice fields of Babulal Ji. I was having that kind of tea made over angithees,
almost after an era. The tea smelt of ginger, cloves, tulsi and smoke. While
sipping the tea and listening to Akbar khan, I felt myself being hypnotized and
transported to a different age where evenings greeted warriors tapping the
village streets hard with their horses and spending the evenings over a bonfire
and folk music of mand singers. The place smelt of burning woods and cow dung
and earth was reeking with its freshness. I just wanted to close my eyes and
lose myself in the flow of my breath high on the pristine odor of burning wood
and dancing on the rhythm of aartis and evening azaan. After a while, Akbar
bhaijaan took leave of us, for his Namaz.
“Did
you see my raub(power) in the village ? I have cultivated all these Rajput lads
and muslim chaps so that no one can mess up with me”, said Babulal ji, curling
his thin, clownish, effete and insignificant mustaches upwards (it was a trend
among young Rajput lads, who he was trying to copy). Mamaji further informed me
that Rajputs and Muslims are like brothers from two different religions and they
have the tendency to backstab. They suck milk from one breast and slash the
other breast with their swords. Mamaji’s pitch got a little intense and he
sounded a little aggressive. “Rajputs sold their daughters to Mughals so they
also deserve to be punished. Now the time has come for the rise of and dominance
of Brahmins. We have always been the teachers.
And we will be vishwa-guru again (Teachers of the world)”, roared
Mamaji.
After
a while, Mamaji’s close friend Nirbhay Shankar shastri , the block head of RSS
(Hindu rightwing organizations)joined us. He was followed by Bajarang Panchal,
the local VHP cadre (Radical and extremist hindu outfit). We were served with
potato curry (aloo ki subzi) and poori, with some halwa. “Abhinav Ji, you
should not be so nice to people like Akbar khan. Though they are upper caste and
noble blooded people but they are Muslims, and gone are those days of bonhomie
and love. These Muslims committed atrocities on Hindus, forcibly converted
them, broke our temples and now they deserve to be punished”, argued Nirbhay
Shankar Ji.
I
tried to convince him that we have lived together for centuries and both the
communities should exist as brothers. “Saheb, you are being too liberal. See,
what they are doing in the whole world. They are exploding bombs. They killed
100ds of people in Mumbai. In Gujarat, before the riots of 2002, local Muslims
had made life hell for Hindus. They used to terrorize us, abduct our females,
bully us and our faith, and openly eat beef. But we taught them a lesson and
since then there has not been a single riot. We, Hindus are not violent by
nature. But they are violent by nature and custom, because their book teaches
jihad to them, their prophet allows them to indulge in all kinds of debauchery
in the garb of four marriages. They have forced us to become violent and reply
them in the language they understand. They should have been sent to Pakistan in
1947”, argued Nirbhay Shankar ji like a ferocious Hindutva ideologue. He was
interrupted by Bajrang Panchal, “Shahstri Ji, you guys just talk, we Panchals
brought them on their knees in 2002”. “Shut up you bloodthirsty demon. I know
what you did. You packed off those thirty innocent ganchi Muslim boys and girls
in a mini truck in Kheemalwara and set fire to the truck. And, you were the one
who got Ramjan Bhai Patel chopped by his friend Bhairolal Damor. You lured him
with your sleazy land deals. You also took the entire cash of 25 lakhs from his
departmental store. It is not Hindutva. It is a wild demonic behavior. The
Muslims here have always been peaceful, humble and nice. They have respected
our customs and beliefs. Even now in their marriages, they do our
religious-cultural dance of garba and some of them even worship Goddess Durga.
Why did you have to kill the innocent Muslims here and spoil the years of peace
and brotherhood? In Gujarat, it was justified because they killed our car
sewaks, but here that dance of blood was the blot on our Hindu values of mercy,
tolerance and peace. I know you did it because you wanted to take their
property papers and I also know that Rahmat khan did not let his daughter elope
with you, so you took revenge. RSS never
supports such barbaric behavior. Our Hindutva is different from your
barbarism”, complained Nirbhay shankar with a pain that lied deep, buried
inside his heart. Babulal Ji intervened with his hawkish idea that we don’t have
to spoil the peace. The aim should be to cultivate them and other lowers castes
of Hindus as good economic resources. “But yes, we should be generous and nicer
with Pathans and sayyids, as they are upper caste Muslims. You Panchals, can
never match the noble blood and regal
manners which they have. You have this newly acquired wealth but not what one
calls Rawayat(traditions) and Khandaan(pedigree).
 |
| Village pathway to Akbar house |
Akbar’s
house was a dilapidated and shoddy structure which was, though newly made but
looked like poor quality toilet constructed by government of India with its
damp ceilings and thin brick walls. There was just one room and one dark
kitchen where Kasim bibi (Akbar’s mother) used to blow air in the phookni over
the chulha. He had two sons and two daughters. One of his sons could hardly
walk and his younger daughter Sakina was mentally retarded from the birth. He
had shown her to several doctors, peers, fakirs, Pandits and sadhus but to no
avail. One of his brothers was also staying with him. His brother was once a
normal man but a few years back while coming back from the village pond, he
urinated at an old deserted tomb. After that, he had become lunatic. People
said that he was possessed by several Jinnats who were very powerful and they
would not set him free until he is dead. Akbar told that once Shahbaz got a fit
of ginni and he walked for 120 miles and he was found outside Udaipur after 15
days. But, Akbar love his brother a lot. His other brothers had already stolen
his family jewelry and escaped to Bahrin.
 |
| Selfie with Akbar Khan's family |
Akbar’s
shop was a small cabin, which he had purchased with Babulal ji’s help. He
greatly revered Babulal Ji because when all the Muslim members of the village
had voted to expel him out of the village because of a fraud Maulvi, Babulal Ji
came to his rescue and lent him money to buy the shop. Since then, he had great
regard for Mamaji and Mamaji also, on many occasions like his daughter’s
wedding etc. helped him generously. Akbar earned a meager $241 per month from
that shop. A few days back a burglar broke into his shop and stole the goods
and cash. People suspected it to be some Bhil tribal’s work but later Akbar
found out that it was local rival and drug-addict from his Pathan community
only who did it for buying drugs. Police was still investigating bit Akbar did
not want the proud Pathans to be taken to the court.
 |
| Akbar's family |
I
was sitting on the back-seat of his bicycle and the cycle was meandering its
way on the rough terrain with several potholes. Boulders used in MGNREGS(government
scheme) were strewn around laying the truth and corruption of such schemes
threadbare. The twists and turns and the ups and downs, in the beginning tended
to rupture my innards, but after a while, it felt like an Indian folk music
laden with its powers of making you a little tipsy, emerging out of its chaos.
I think chaos is not all that bad. When one leaves things and systems to chaos,
then he surrenders his will, his abilities and in a way accepts his inefficiency
and expresses his desire to fall asleep in a lazy afternoon. But often, out of
such chaos emerges a highly superior symmetry, a divine and cosmic rhythm which
synchronizes with one’s soul, one’s breath and teaches you to be in harmony
with snakes, lizards, bears, panthers, tigers, ghosts and celestial dancers.
Such rhythm is internal and not very often visible. India offers such rhythm
out of its chaos of million gods which include cows, monkeys and elephants,
stinking public toilets and corrupt officials. One can go completely berserk for
the first few months if he is visiting India, but after a stay of an year or so
in a remote village of Chhattisgarh, he or she realizes that things like
nations, development and climate finance, sustainable development are vanishing
like a writing on the water, and he is quite at peace with himself even if
there is no electricity for ten hours.
 |
| Sleepy, deserted and lazy pathways of the village |
After
a tumbler of buttermilk, I enjoyed a nice afternoon siesta in the fields of
Babulal ji. Akbar khan informed me that those fields previously belonged to the
king of Geenth and lower caste people were bonded laborers there. Now the king
is reduced to penury and has kept the fields on mortgage with Babulal ji. Akbar
bhai called it a result of his karmas and stated that the king should now
devote himself to bhagwan (god). He brought me cool and fresh water of the
nearby well which was famous for being a resting place of an 18 feet long
python. The fresh breeze brushing against my cheeks while I was gulping down
the water, was absolutely refreshing and energizing.
I
asked Akbar bhai about that episode when he exposed a fraud Maulvi. At my
question, he started giggling and said, “leave it sahib, people are superstitious
and they will never change.” I insisted him to narrate the whole episode.
“Babusaheb,
about 8years ago, we started the practice of bringing Maulvis from the madrasas
of UP and Bihar. Although, I was against it but the fellow Muslims said that
Deobandi maulvis of UP and Bihar have sound knowledge of Islam and we must
bring them if we want our kids to be practicing Muslims. I mellowed down against
the majority. Then they brought Mushtaq Muhmmad from Sasaram, in Bihar. He was
trained in Deobandi Taleem (study or discipline). He was quite a young fellow
with mild and pleasing manners. As a religious mentor in Masjid, I was not
satisfied with his job. I mean, our kids were not learning anything. He himself
had those warped notions of Islam like not to visit Dargahs and stay away from
peers. He was teaching strange things like not to mingle with Hindu boys and
girls, not to dine with them, and he even told our children to stay away from
the garba dance. He became quite popular among our community for his
fundamentalist views. Our people started distancing themselves from Hindu
festivals and minimized their interactions to business purposes only. I was not very happy, but still I paid my
respects to him because he was a religious man and popular in our community.
There,
started a strange phenomenon after a couple of months. Every morning our people
would find pieces of human excreta outside their houses i.e. right outside the
main entrance. People got scared and though that it was the indication of some
supernatural evil force i.e. some kind of bala. They all went to maulvi sahib and
he started writing tabeez to them. He would charge 5000 to 10000 for each
tabeez. People were getting impressed with his ilm (knowledge and supernatural
powers). They did not face any problem after getting the tabeez. His popularity
was increasing and people started visiting him form far-off villages for divine
interventions in the case of diseases, ghost-problems etc.
In
the midst of this popularity, one day, I raised the issue of his poor teaching
methods. Some people supported me but he could sway the majority with him. But
from that day, his relations with me became bitter. I used to greet him and pay
my respects. He kept a cold and formal demeanor. After few days, I also faced the same problem.
I found pieces of human excreta outside my newly purchased shop and house. Ammi
got scared like hell and accused me of the problem. She believed that since I
insulted Maulvi sahib, the Allah got displeased and now the satan would play
its nasty game on us. We would be ruined. She went to Maulvi sahib and said
sorry like a million times. Even I begged him to get us rid of that evil but he
always asked me to find some other way. I even cried in front of him but he did not
budge from his anger. Then, one day, Rahma told me that Maulvi sahib is leaving
the village for his home town in Bihar to see his ailing mother. I was pondering over my situation and
expecting that Maulvi sahib will shower his blessings on us before leaving.
After a while, I was called by Maulvi sahib. In the masjid, he told me that
since I had requested him many times therefore he would capture the bala and
get us rid of that problem. He said that his heart melted at our situation and
he didn’t want to be a culprit in the eyes of God. I was on his feet and I was crying like a
baby. He gave me holy water, tabeez and other petty things to spread them in my
house, but while coming back he warned me that this solution will be effective
only for about 28 to 30 days. Still, I was happy.
I
could not follow his instructions for a couple of days but surprisingly, I did
not find the excreta next morning outside my house. My ammi was so happy. Her
faith in Maulvi sahib increased manifold. She thought that a mere visit to that
holy man could do such a great miracle. But, then, I somehow could not
understand the whole thing. I had not even used his tabez and the problem
vanished.
I
was chosen by village elders to receive Maulvi sahib when he came back after a
month. We organized a small get together at Masjid to say thanks to Allah for
his safe return from Bihar. Maulvi sahib seemed very happy with me. I told him
that the problem had vanished but he warned me that it might resurface after 30
days as the bala was a 500 year old gini and was a very powerful one. I
expressed my unconditional faith in his ilm and returned home. Next day, I saw
the excreta again in front of my house. Ammi panicked and whole house was
fear-stricken. We all went to Maulvi sahib and offered him 25,000 to make a
powerful tabeez. But there was something which was disturbing me.
I
decided to stay awake that night on the roof top. I carried my tea kettle and
began to wait. At 3:30, I could see someone coming towards, our house with
small container in one hand. His other hand was wrapped in a polythene bag. I
used my torch a little and discovered that, he was coming from the direction of
Masjid. When he came closer, I found that he was wearing a green turban. Then,
I saw that a lean and lanky fellow with those deep, and cunning eyes, looked
hither-thither and when he was assured that there was no one, he took out a
fistful of shit with his polythene wrapped hand and smeared it on the walls of
my house and spread the rest of it in front of my house and the shop.
Saheb,
Not even in my wildest dreams, I could ever think that a Maulvi would do such a
lowly thing. That creepy, Bihari was the dirtiest and the most evil man I had
seen in my life. I wanted to smash his head with my lathi but I restrained
myself. I wanted the whole village to know his truth. For next ten days, I
brought other members of our community and made them see the whole thing. They
were all enraged. They were angry and
wanted to expel him from the village. But, none could dare as they were scared
of his religious powers and they thought that Allah would ruin them if they
hurt a religious man. I could not control myself. One afternoon, after the
Namaz, I broke his legs with my lathi. He started howling. He was abusing and
cursing me.
In
less than 15 minutes the whole village gathered, including the Hindus. The
Maulvi accused me of bashing him. I told everyone about his deeds. But, that nasty fellow started crying and then
said that the gini was taking on the form of Maulvi and doing that nasty act. He
said that the gini was a very powerful bala who wanted him to go out of the
village so that he could make life hell for the villagers, and deviate them
from the path of Allah. He even accused me being hands-in-glove with the gini
and practicing black-magic. When I asked the people who saw his sleaze, then
those people joined the Maulvi and said that the shaitan was visiting in maulvi
jee’s garb. Even the Hindus of village accused me of disrespecting a religious
elder. Pandit Nirbhay Shakar Ji, the RSS chief and that Panchal fellow of VHP
were the first ones to come and kiss the feet of Maulvi jee and they were
seeking pardon for the insult hurled at him.
Finally,
our sadar mufti ji and Nirbhay Shankar ji passed a resolution in village panchayat
to expel me out of the village for three years. I was heart-broken. I could not
convince these superstitious fools and backward idiots. Everyone was accusing
me, abusing me and my family. In those narrow straights, Babulal Ji used his
clout, threw large sums of money to the Masjid, Maulvi jee and sadar mufti. He
knew one secret of Sadar Mufti i.e. his illicit alliance with a bhil female who
was married. Finally Sadar mufti gave in and, I were saved from the expulsion.”
I
did not know whether to laugh or to express my sympathies with Akbar. I was
looking at him with a dumb faced, and he was in splits,” sahib, how could that
rascal put his hand in human excreta for 5000 bucks? The idiot was giving vivid
descriptions of Jannat and driving our youth crazy and he himself was in such
hell, such gutter!!!!!! Tauba tauba !!!tauba tauba!!!! Astakhfarullah”.
In
the evening, Akbar bhaijan took me to the newly constructed village mosque. I
must say that it a beautifully constructed structure with nicely carved domes. The
building had greenish interiors and in many places blue glasses were used with
Persian effect. While I was watching the hustle and bustle of
the evening, I was greeted by a middle-aged bearded man who was popularly known
as Ibrahim bhai Ghanchi. He was a sadar Mufti. He looked rather fair, red and
well-built for a Ghanchi community. One could feel the reflection of his newly
earned treasures from gulf countries and the pride of authority which comes
from the position of Mufti and connections with the bigwigs of the district. He greeted, “Khushamdeed khushamdeed!!!”. I
could feel the poorly made effort to speak Urdu heavily dominated with Gujarati
accent. Akbar bhai standing beside me, whispered
in my ear that Ibrahim Bhai could only speak Vagri-Gujarati, but he had developed
this new passion for Urdu and Arabic under the new Maulvi jee who hails from
the esteemed Wahabi school of Islam.
The
moment he uttered “wahabi school”, I went back to the book of William
Dalrymple, that goes by the name,” Nine Lives”, in which he mentions the deplorable
plight of Sufi Islam in Sindh (Pakistan) after the advent of Saudi sponsored
Wahabism in Sindh. While I was thinking
about “Nine Lives”, I saw a bunch of robust dark skinned man climbing down the
stairs in “Thobe or Kandura” , traditional ankle-length Arab garment for Namaz.
It was getting a little dark outside. When the white light of the tube-light
splashed on damp green walls, with those robust men in Kandura offering Namaz,
I felt as if I was in remote mosque of a war-torn West African or North-African
country.
Ibrahim
bhai came back and he seemed impressed with my Urdu. “Saheb, I must tell you
there will be a day when Islam will rule all over the world. And, what the
great Nabi said, is irrefutable. Now see that fellow, Yakub, the one who is
doing wazoo. Until yesterday, this fellow did not know that the pyjama should
be worn above his ankles. Maulvi ji gave him an earful and slapped him. He
learned from his mistake and see, today he looks like pious Muslim, the pride
of Prophet. Saheb, these youngsters are
wasting time in flirting with Hindu girls and whole day they are on whatsapp
and facebook. This facebook is a new weapon of satan which has come from the
west. Saheb, Islam is being threatened by
everyone these days. In India, we have to get ready to protect our community
from the RSS and BJP. But these guys don’t know the power of Jihad. In India
also, you see Muslims are suffering a lot. They are poor. The government does nothing
for us. We are slaughtered like carrots in the riots. We have become aliens in
our home land. You must listen to our new maulvi sahib. He was in Saudi for
years. Akkal thikane laga dee hum logo ki (fixed our brains). He taught us that
these tombs and dargahs are the lands of Kufr (Apostacy). I issued a circular
yesterday that no one will play garba in marriages”, opined Ibrahim Bhai, with
a firm conviction and strong political vision for the community (or I guess,
for himself).
 |
| With Ibrahim Bhai |
While
coming back to Mamaji’s place, I asked Akbar bhai about his feelings and views
on the general condition of Muslims in the village. He said that sahib, we have
been living with each other in peace for years, for centuries. In fact, he felt
that his Islam was very different from what the new Maulvi jee was teaching. It
sounded very alien and dangerous to him.
He further told me that over the years, friendship and warmth has
vanished. Akbar was lost in the year
2002, “In the riots, our Hindu neighbors who had lived with us for decades butchered
us or were an accomplice to that pogrom. But what do I say sahib, if one man
kills, than another one saves. The Hindus of our village only saved us,
otherwise we would have been massacred by the rioters and hooligans who came
from Gujarat. Here the youngsters are misled by the politicians on both the
sides. The older generation of Hindus, might not be dining with us as the
brahmins are pious vegetarians, but they do not have that communal hatred which
I see in the youth. But, sahib, our people i.e. Muslims are also no saints.
These young boys of our samaj are not interested in studies. They go to
madarasa for few years and after that they are just wasting time in smoking and
running after girls. They get into
looting, kidnaping and anti-social activities. Once they become a little
powerful gundas, they start terrorizing Hindu merchants and they make life hell
for the Hindu girls. They run away with them and after having sex, they are not
interested in these girls as they come from a different religion.
Now
tell me sahib, we had never eaten bada janwar (beef) for centuries. We always
ate goat and chicken. But our youth, under the influence of these new Maulvis
have started eating cows. In Gujarat, they were butchering cows and in some
Muslim areas, Hindus could not enter. And Saheb, these monsters were even
talking to Jihadis in the neighboring country. I have heard the police seized a
wireless set. One of my cousins worked in Gujarat police. How can they eat cows? It’s a sacred animal.
I
am not happy with these changes. Now a days even Hindus don’t interact with us
that much. They do not invite us to their marriages. I mean, I understand if
they dont invite Ghanchis, but me!!!!! I am a Pathan, a sahukari. My ancestors
played key role as neighbors and village heads in their marriages and
festivals. Things are not the same. We don’t fly kites together now. I don’t know
if there will be a riot in future, I will be safe or not. People like Ibrahim
bhai and Nirbhay Shankar ji have no guts and spines. These Ibrahim Ghanchi has bought
several plots of land. He has done a big ghapla ( embezzlement) in the
donations which came for building this new mosque. He has built excellent
relations with the state congress chief and sahib this fellow is eyeing for the
MLA ticket from Congress party. And sahib, you will be surprised to know that Ibrahim
and Nirbhay Shankar ji must be speaking against each other in public like dogs
but these rascals are best friends and they have grabbed several benami properties
from the bhils in the nearby town of Khemalwara. The poor people have hardly
anything. Leave aside beef or mutton, they don’t even have khitchri to eat. Most of them earn like less than $100 per
month and spend it on marriages”. Akbar
sounded like one of those last few sane voices in this insane scenario where a
man gets killed on the suspicion of eating beef and the media, along with
politicians leaves no stone unturned in adding to the pains of that family,
going crazy in increasing TRP ratings and making political gains.
And, on top of it the Prime Minister, who otherwise makes record
in giving excellent speeches in India and abroad keeps a studied silence as if
his Hindutva credentials will get washed away if he spoke one word of sympathy.
And, the foreign media is going absolutely
crazy as if India will see 21st century’s biggest genocide of its minority
communities. Organizations like RSS and VHP are being branded and depicted as
Nazi thugs of 1940s, which is far away from the truth. The other day I saw a
shakha ceremony of RSS where its leader was wielding a stick, his shoes were
torn and his socks were stinking like hell. I heard him explaining the virtues
of eating vegetarian food and Jaina values of non-violence. I am quite sure
Hitler would have laughed his heart out if he were alive and known the people
who his organization was being compared to. I guess he would have found it a
great insult. And, the truth – Either someone like Akbar Khan Pathan knows or I
get to know which hardly makes any difference. I felt like singing the old song
of Mera Naam Joker,
“kahta hai joker,
Sara Zamana
Adhi haqeeqat, adha fasana
Chashma Utaro, phir dekho yaro
Duniya wahi hai, Chehra
Purana
My generation did not bring BJP and Modi into
the power for the kind of Hindutva which these guys are practicing and
propagating. Well, in my years of experience of Indian society and its intensely
emotional nature when it comes to religion, I found that Hindus and Muslims,
both are communal. When it comes to matters like pigs,cows, conversions,
mosques and temples, they are ready to slit each other’s throats at the
slightest spark. But, at the same time, these same people exhibit such great
human values of mercy, love, detachment that you feel they are the greatest people,
the torch-bearers of peace and spirituality. India has always been a land of
contradictions which are beyond the limits of my cognitive comprehension. I
find them cosmic and metaphysical, many a times.
I
feel that in such a society, the role played by government becomes immensely important.
Prime Minister should take a cue from Singapore and unleash his ideas to
maintain peaceful race relations and inter-faith relations. The nuisance
unleashed by media and third grade Hindutva organizations must be dealt with
firmly. The damage which such unfortunate incidents do to India’s image is
immense and with such an international image, no economic development can take
place. And, India will lose its credibility of a tolerant and multicultural
society in the world community. No one will take us seriously in the diplomatic
community.
I
feel that there is another and much superior way to advance the cause of
so-called Hindutva (personally for me such terminology smacks of short-sighted
political motives). The government can initiate a major program of research
into the scientific, literary, dramatic and philosophical and metaphysical
achievements of ancient India. The Prime Minister, who lobbies so hard for Yoga
day at UN, does not look nice when he keeps a political silence on the most horrendous
and condemnable violence of killing a man for eating beef.
Santan
Dharma and Yoga have no room such barbaric intolerance. When I say this, I don’t
mean that beef eating or cow slaughter should be legalized in India. The intellectuals,
who are demanding this or taking proud in eating beef, are adding tons to the
nuisance value already generated by our politicians and media. What I am
suggesting is that we need to find a way to manage our inter-faith relations
and we must have a strategy for that, if we want to be known as civilized and democratic
country which is worth investing time and money.
[1] A
Local variety of cactus
[2] a
Hindu caste rule that if one follows caste rules they are allowed to share the
mat with the other respectable members of that particular caste (Over the
interaction of centuries Muslim immigrants adopted many Hindu customs and those
who converted from Hinduism carried their caste identities)
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